Cadence

One of the reasons why I like Michel Legrand’s “Windmills Of Your Mind” is its indifferent consistency.  It’s like marching stoically to a distant drum unmindful of the dead bodies scattered along the way.  It is snobbish and unaffected without really meaning to.  It is only concerned with itself.  A meteor could crash down to earth, wiping out half the human race, and still it would continue to play.

There are times when we choose to be like that song, not because we are not attuned to what’s happening around us, but because of instinctual self-preservation.  We choose to turn a blind eye or a deaf ear to the events that would alter our history because oftentimes the initial question that we ask ourselves is– what for?  How could a single person make a difference?  Can one man redirect a mindless throng set on moving towards self destruction?  And more than that, getting involved entails allowing ourselves to be affected, to be hurt, to be rejected.  And what then is left of our little insignificant lives?

Much has been said about the parable of the little boy and the starfish, how a single act of kindness could mean the world to somebody else.  There is some truth or perhaps some great truth to that story, but to think of life and the energy needed to lend a hand in such simplistic terms is, I believe, an insult to life itself.  Life is never simple and no matter how comforting it must be to reduce everything to a common denominator, it just isn’t the case.  The complexity of human nature and the nuances of even the most fundamental things will always come to play.

I’m sorry if this sounds too individualistic, bu I choose to turn a blind eye on the politics of this country because it’s too painful to watch. I choose to lend a deaf ear to those manic street preachers because even though they’re preaching the “good news of our salvation” talking is just not enough; especially on a busy street where nobody even pretends to listen.

In a country where politics and religion go through the masses’ stomach first, I choose to do the best I can in my little cardboard existence, guided by the cadence of Legrand’s music, marching to my own tune, down a solitary cliff if need be.